Eventually, the manly grunts and growls fell away to exhausted wheezes. Soon an unexpected sound reached her ears. Laughter.
Hekla rolled her eyes. Gunnar and Eyvind, having exhausted themselves, now lay on their backs, passing a flask between themand guffawing over something. She supposed the pair of them had finished their axe-measuring contest.
At some point, Eyvind stood and pulled his torn tunic over his head. Firelight caught on the toughened muscles of his torso, bunching and flexing as he twisted to examine some blow Gunnar had delivered. Despite her best efforts, Hekla could not seem to look away. His gaze slid to hers, and she felt it like a physical touch.
He was giving her the space she’d asked for, and a part of her hated him for it. Hekla’s mind and body were at war, images sliding into her exhausted mind—those muscles moving below her; those hazel eyes looking up at her like she was everything he could ever want.
Break your rule,he’d asked her.Spend the night with me.
It was impossible to forget how safe she’d felt in that room with him—how she’d felt more like herself with him than she had in years. But it was only ever a fantasy. Never mind their constant bickering for weeks afterward. Each soft word of praise he’d spoken that night—every sentimental moment they’d shared—was spoiled by the fact that Eyvind Hakonsson was betrothed to another woman all along.
Hekla looked away with a tremulous breath. She didn’t care that she was holding this grudge too tight. Did not care that the right thing to do was to hear Eyvind’s words. He’d been so patient. Admirably calm. It did not matter. Hekla could not expose her tender heart again.
Eyvind and Thrand had gone to the stream, and Hekla hated herself for noticing. The other warriors milled about within the perimeter of campfires, some playing games of dice, others readying themselves for another night in these cursed woods. Gunnar, it seemed, had won the favor of Eyvind and his retinue with his latest prank, and his laughter came easily as he tossed the dice with a trio of warriors.
She would talk to him tonight, Hekla decided.
And she had her chance a moment later, when, after extricating himself from the game, Gunnar sank down on the bedroll next to hers. He nudged her with his shoulder and offered her his flask of brennsa. Hekla took a long draught, leaning into the whiskey’s burn. She’d need courage to do what came next.
“I cannot marry you, Gunnar,” she said, returning his flask.
He stiffened. “Why not?”
“I will never marry again.”
She felt his eyes on her as the silence stretched on. “It’shim,isn’t it?”
Hekla scowled into the campfire.
“He’s not right for you, Hek,” continued the obtuse man. “His clothing is threaded withactual gold—and have you seen his sword? I swear it to the gods. That’s Karthian steel he carries!”
Hekla’s scowl only deepened as Gunnar’s words settled into her. She knew well enough that Eyvind and she were utterly unsuited, but Gunnar’s agreement irritated her.
“Do you know what Thrand told me?” Gunnar did not wait for Hekla’s reply. “For Hakonsson’s fifth birthday, he was gifted a thousand acres of land.A thousand!Do you know how many sólas that is worth?”
When she did not answer, he continued. “I know you, Hekla. You like things a certain way. I can give you stability—a life without rules or expectations. With me, you’d have freedom—something you’d never have with a man like him.”
Hekla’s mind jerked to another time. It was just after her husband had taken an axe to her arm. She’d dragged herself from the woodshed and collapsed in the neighbor’s yard. The old mother there had bound the wound tightly and kept Hekla hidden and abed for the better part of a month. Her survival had been miraculous, but she was not so foolish as to think she could survive such a thing twice.
Upon her recovery, Hekla’s first vow was that she’d kill her husband. The second was that she would never marry again. Never again would a man have such power over her.
“You aren’tlistening to me,Gunnar!” Hekla knew that her voice rang too loud—that the warriors in the camp now glanced their way—but shehadto make him understand. “My answer isno.Do not ask me again.”
Gunnar pushed abruptly to his feet and stormed into the woods. Hekla waited to feel lighter—to feel some of the burden lifted from her shoulders. But all she felt was exhaustion.
Chapter 40
Lands beyond the river, Zagadka
Saga knew the world below her would make a beautiful sight, yet she couldn’t lift her face from where it was buried in Havoc’s white mane. Her breaths came in ragged gasps, her heart trampling wildly inside her chest, and she clung to the horse with every bit of her resolve. Perhaps the stallion sensed this, for his wingbeats were smooth and even, and he made no rapid changes in direction.
On the flight went like a too-vivid nightmare. Yet the scent of horse and the icy wind whipping her hair rooted Saga firmly in reality.
Hold on,she told herself, her muscles aching.Just hold on.
Saga did not even notice they’d descended until Havoc’s hooves pounded on packed earth. Gradually, they stilled, and Saga tumbled from the horse’s back. She landed on all fours, then heaved every morsel she’d eaten into the long grass.
The horse nickered—judgmentally, Saga thought—and she curled into a ball to protect herself from those lethal hooves. But the sound of ripping grass told Saga that stamping her to death was not currently on the stallion’s mind.
